


The Wicket Witch

by Luxie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, crack-fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-17
Updated: 2012-03-17
Packaged: 2017-11-02 02:24:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/363962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luxie/pseuds/Luxie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a pure Crack-fic. Witches and bad humor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wicket Witch

It started as a joke, but – as Sam and Dean finds out – you should not make jokes in a town occupied by witches.

"Let's just get this done, and bring down this Wicket Witch of the North." Dean said, as they got into the Impala and went to check in at the local motel.

Sam wakes up in the middle of the night, neck stiff and his whole body itching. Biting down a groan he turns his hurting neck and finds two blue eyes staring down at him, two blue eyes and a set of sharp teeth and a furry mane.

Sam flies out of his bed, and then falls to the floor like a ragdoll as his legs gives in on him immediately. Slowly he gets back up, on wobbly legs and peaks over the bed. The lion is still there, looking confused and... Annoyed? Oh God, he knows that exasperated expression.

"Cas?"

"Yes, it's me, Sam. We have a problem."

"Why are you a lion?"

"A valid question. I had hoped you and Dean would have a light to shine on this matter."

"Umm, I really don't. Oh, besides the witches."

"Witches? Perfect." Castiel gets off his haunches and circles the bed, offering Sam his big, tousled head as support. It's not until then that Sam looks down and realizes that there are straws sticking out of his sleeve. His sleeve? His shirt and vest and pin striped pants? What the ever burning Hell?

Sam wobbles his way across the room into the bathroom and turn on the light.

The sudden brightness finally wakes up Dean that sits up suddenly with a clanky clatter. But Sam doesn't register any of this; he's staring into the mirror, frozen in place by the creature looking back at him.

"Sam? What's going on, man? I'm trying to get some shut eye here."

When Sam doesn't seem inclined to answer Castiel takes initiative. "I'm afraid we've ended at the receiving end of a spell, Dean."

Dean bolts off the bed, getting his stiff metal legs twisted in the process and falls face first on the floor.

When Castiel pounces from the floor onto Dean's now empty bed, Dean jerks and closes his eyes. "Jesus, Cas! Don't do that."

Castiel's big lion face just frowns. Finally Sam seems to snap out of his stupor in the bathroom.

"Well this is just typical witches." He murmurs and joins them by Dean's bed. "Bad humor and power trips should not be mixed."

"What are you talking about?" Dean snaps, scrambling off the floor with unpleasant metal on metal noises.

"The smart guy needs a brain, the brave angel needs courage and you..."

"Need a heart. Funny. I get it." Dean doesn't sound the slightest amused, but scrambles off the floor and looks down at himself, taking in the metal armor.

"Well." Castiel muses, shaking his maney head. "Now at least we know the source. I hope you two have learned something from this, at least?"

"Yeah," Dean says. "Don't make jokes in a town occupied by witches."


End file.
